


New Techniques

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-04
Updated: 2015-07-04
Packaged: 2018-04-07 15:12:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4268040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'Derek should have known his techniques could only work for so long. He should have known that Stiles of all people would see right through him when he backed off and pretended not to exist whenever the darkness rose, filled his heart and mind. No, no, not even Mr. Grumpy Werewolf could hide, no matter how hard he tried.'</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Techniques

**Author's Note:**

> Title: New Techniques  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Pairing/s: Derek/Stiles  
> Character/s: Stiles, Derek  
> Summary: 'Derek should have known his techniques could only work for so long. He should have known that Stiles of all people would see right through him when he backed off and pretended not to exist whenever the darkness rose, filled his heart and mind. No, no, not even Mr. Grumpy Werewolf could hide, no matter how hard he tried.'  
> Warnings: none  
> Submission Type: ficlet  
> Word Count: 880  
> Prompt: #127: Technique  
> Disclaimer: I DON’T own anyone or anything. I DON’T own the characters. The fanfic is written for fun, NOT for profit.

Barely a star was visible that night as Stiles parked his jeep in front of the tall building, abandoned with the exception of a loft. A highly secured building that could tell quite a lot of disturbing stories. The loft’s unlit windows stared down at him like frightening, black eyes, but Stiles knew better than to fall for the seeming lack of anyone’s presence.

Derek should have known his techniques could only work for so long. He should have known that Stiles of all people would see right through him when he backed off and pretended not to exist whenever the darkness rose, filled his heart and mind. No, no, not even Mr. Grumpy Werewolf could hide, no matter how hard he tried.

Stiles made it to the loft without setting off any security alerts. He knew the building like his own bedroom back at home. He lifted a hand with the intention to knock, but decided against it. As if a hiding Derek would let him in if he bothered to waste time with knocking.

Nope. No need for useless gestures like that. Quietly, he pushed the door open and let himself in. The large, barely furnitured loft lay before him in thick darkness, only lit by the pale moon outside. Still he could feel the presence of the werewolf, and the intense emotions radiating off of him.

Stiles swallowed down the urge to call out and announce his arrival. He walked further in, letting his eyes wander until he spotted the familiar silhouette, seated on the spiral stairs, motionless like a statue. Stiles hesitated, watching out for hints of aggression. Not that Derek would ever hurt him. Ever. By now, no threat would be frightening enough to even make him consider such an option. Still Stiles wished he was able to sense people’s emotions at times, could basically read their minds that way.

There was no anger though. No glowing eyes. Not even hints of claws. Just pain. Thick, breathtaking pain. Stiles gulped again.

“Didn’t see me coming, huh?” he asked. “Well, you probably did with all that werewolf hearing and stuff.” He approached the man on the stairs again. Just a few more steps. “See, I get this, okay? Why you’re hiding in here. No one wants people to see them at their worst, when you feel vulnerable. And as a werewolf? Guess the instinct to run and hide and lick the wounds is kicking in.”

The eyes still weren’t glowing, but Stiles could feel the glare that was shot in his direction. He stepped closer.

“Then again…” he continued, “...wouldn’t a wolf go and look for the support of the pack?”

More silence. New waves of pain hit Stiles. He winced.

“It’s not the same, right? Like it used to be.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he made another approach. “You miss them. You miss how there was always someone around to hold you if the pain got in the way. But…” He sighed, shaking his head as he tried to find the right words for what he wanted to say. “I know the new pack doesn’t really...have that pack feel to you. That’s it, right? They’re family, but not...family family. They’re trying though and if you don’t let them…”

The spiral steps were no more than a couple of feet away now. He could make out Derek’s lips, so tight and hard as if words wanted to get past them but he wouldn’t allow them to. Every muscle looked so tense, to the point of being painful. Ready to fight, or flee. But what caught Stiles’s attention the most were those eyes. They weren’t lowered, or staring ahead without a clear focus. No. They were gazing right back at him. Searching. Searching for...what? 

Maybe…

“I know what it’s like,” Stiles whispered then, ignoring the knowledge that Derek could see more in the dark, could feel more. Everything, if he wanted to. He was here to help, and he would. No matter how much he had to expose himself for that. “I didn’t lose them all, but...well, you know what happened to my Mom. I was there when it happened. Always made me feel guilty. You’re gonna say ‘nah, Stiles, it wasn’t your fault’, like it wasn’t your fault that this crazy-ass-bitch tricked you. But the feeling stays, and sometimes the pain is too much to bear. Then there’s the...well, the moments when you think you’re a monster. Think I don’t know what it’s like? I was the nogitsune for crying out loud. I did horrible things, and I remember every single one of them. So trust me, Derek, I know what pain and shame feel like. Don’t you think that it’d be better for us if we kicked each other’s asses back into gear instead of dwelling on it all alone? That technique hasn’t worked that well so far, don’t you think?”

Derek didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. The hint of a smile tugged at the corners of Stiles’s mouth. “That’s what I thought,” he said quietly, closing the last bit of distance between them and rested a hand on the other man’s knee, in the comforting way he knew he was craving so often himself.


End file.
